


Quickie

by rhink_is_my_kink



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Link Neal, Felching, M/M, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Top Rhett McLaughlin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhink_is_my_kink/pseuds/rhink_is_my_kink
Summary: A quickie fic about a quickie fuck. I guess?
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 6
Kudos: 60





	Quickie

Rhett pushes Link against the makeup table in the dressing room. He fists his hands in silver hair, and bites along a stubbly jaw. 

Link is hard and desperate, begging Rhett to  _ stop fucking teasing him already _ . They were supposed to be on set five minutes ago, but Rhett is taking his sweet time. Three different crew members have knocked on the locked door. They’re probably pissed, but neither man cared. 

“Rhett,  _ please _ ,” Link pleads again. He’s strung out and ready for the larger man to dick him properly so they could get to work already. 

Rhett spins Link around towards the mirror, and shoves his face down onto the makeup table, sending an assortment of tubes, brushes, and pots of color skittering to the floor. There’s a chair in Rhett’s way, and he kicks it behind him, knocking over a shelf of styrofoam heads wearing wigs. 

It was going to be a real pain in the ass to clean up later. 

One of Rhett’s big hands grabs one of Link’s ass cheeks, and squeezes until a high, thin whine leaks out of Link’s throat. Then,  _ finally _ , Rhett’s cock slides over Link’s crack, and Rhett thumbs the blunt head of his dick into Link. Hand lotion eases the way as he plunges in hard enough to knock the breath out of Link. 

Rhett folds down over Link and growls, “Shit, baby. Take my cock so good. You’re a slut for my cock, ain’t ya?”

Deep thrusts push Link against the scuffed white surface, the friction pulling at his cheek and his chest. He nods eagerly, “Yeah,” he breathes. “Need more. Come on, fuck me.  _ Harder _ .”

Rhett hoists one of Link’s knees up onto the table, spreading his legs wide, and opening his hips up, so Rhett can sink even deeper into that soft, tight, heat. A needy whine pushes out of Link as Rhett’s thick cock fills him. 

Rhett slips a hand over Link’s mouth, “You’ve gotta hush, my little slut. Everyone’s gonna hear how much you fucking love this cock.”

Link’s senses are in overload, he clings to the far edge of the table, too overwhelmed to manage much else. He does catch sight of them both in the big makeup mirror. His face is flushed, and his eyes are dark. There’s a line of bite marks along his jawline. And, of course, Rhett’s big hand clapped over his mouth. He looks needy, desperate. Greedy. 

Rhett is an imposing figure, towering above him. His chest shines in the light, and his face is a study in rapture; every wave of hair, and trickle of sweat paints him as a Renaissance masterpiece. It was almost funny how Rhett can raw dog Link in their dressing room when they’re supposed to be changing for the next bit, and still manage to look like Adonis. 

“Alright, slut, get your hand on that cock.” 

Link scrambles to do what he’s told; his knee buckles when his shaky fingers wrap around his dick. 

“Gonna come for me, little cock slut. Gonna make you come with my big dick.” Rhett isn’t asking.

Link’s other hand disappears under him. He slides questing fingers back behind his balls, and over his taint, reaching back to his slick, stretched out rim, so he can feel Rhett’s thick cock working him over at a frenzied pace. The heat that has been building in his gut boils over, white hot, and he’s shaking apart on Rhett’s dick, coming over his fist with a muffled wail. Come splashes his calf, and foot. He tries to hold still so he doesn’t slip on it, shockwaves rumble through his body though, so Rhett’s hands grip his narrow hips like a vise. And damned if Link’s pervy little mind isn’t already looking forward to pressing his fingers into the tender bruises tomorrow while he jerks off.

Link’s full-body orgam is concentrated around Rhett’s cock. The snug heat clutches even tighter, milking him slow and dirty with each thrust. It’s too much, and has Rhett spilling into Link with one final deep push that leaves him gasping and dazed. 

He pulls out of Link before his cock even has a chance to soften, and Link squawks with indignation at being abandoned so unceremoniously. He tries to put his other foot on the floor so he can turn and gripe at Rhett, but Rhett shoves him hard from behind, sending him sliding shoulder-first into the mirror, turning his head just in time to avoid hitting it with his face.

Rhett growls, “Fucking stay down, Neal.” It’s accompanied by a loud smack to his ass cheek that makes him whimper. 

Link’s head is turned in such a way that he’s able to watch Rhett sink to his knees behind Link, and bury his tongue in Link’s ass. If he looks over his shoulder, he can see Rhett’s dark green eyes daring him to move.

Nevertheless, Link still makes a half-hearted appeal,“Rhett, we don’t have time. We gotta hustle to set.”

Rhett pulls off of him long enough to declare, “We’ll go when I’m damn well good and ready.”

Link didn’t expect him to listen, nor did he particularly want Rhett to stop. Someone had to be the level-headed one, even if they both knew it was bullshit.

Someone pounds on the door. It’s Stevie, sounding very irritated when she yells, “Damnit guys, get your asses to set. You’re putting us way behind for the rest of the day.”

Rhett matches her annoyed tone with his own, “Give us 10 more minutes, Stevie. Gosh.” 

“You’re already 20 minutes late.” 

“Don’t have kittens, Stevie. We’re comin’.” Rhett barks and dives back into Link’s ass with his tongue. Stevie gives up and retreats, but she throws a generous helping of cuss words at them as she goes. 

Finally, five minutes later, Rhett rises, and helps Link stand on wobbly legs. Rhett grumbles, “Guess we better get dressed and get out there. They’re probably pretty pissed right about now.” They both turn to choose their clothes from the pile the crew had set out from them. After they’re more of less covered, they turn to the mirror to straighten their hair.

“Gosh, Rhett. Your beard is a mess.” Link observes. With a dark chuckle and a shrug of his shoulders, Rhett just rakes some pomade through his messy hair.

**Author's Note:**

> No betas, we die like men. 
> 
> Tumblr: rhink-is-my-kink


End file.
